Queen of Hearts
by sara-cupcaked
Summary: In Las Vegas, Sara Sidle gambles on love not money. GSR
1. Chapter 1

_I always write pieces that tie back strongly to canon, and I wanted to try something new. Thanks to the wonderful Keegan Elizabeth for being my beta on this one, once again. As usual, I claim no ownership to CSI and the characters below._

* * *

She has lived in Vegas for nearly six years, and she can honestly say she has never gambled for money.

Poker has never interested her, neither does blackjack. She doesn't see anything exciting about betting on a moving ball like in roulette, and the noises from the slot machines give her headaches.

No, Sara Sidle has never gambled in any of the iconic casinos that line Sin City's strip, but she cannot say she does not gamble.

The moment Dr. Gil Grissom called on her; the moment she stepped off the plane from San Francisco and onto Nevada soil, she had already hedged her bets on him and started gambling away her heart.

In Las Vegas, she doesn't gamble for money.

She gambles on love.

And today is the day she has to realise, like all the other people placing bets and gambling in flashy casinos, there are winners and losers. It is the same with poker, with roulette, and definitely with love.

The winner takes it all in virginal white, while the loser stands small in a little black dress.

Sara Sidle slips into a black dress and pins her hair up, determined not to feel small as she climbs into a taxi with a defiant smile on her lips.

--

"Sara," a voice says softly, startling her in the dim, quiet hallway.

She turns to the voice, putting on a smile. "Grissom."

He is dressed in an immaculate black tuxedo, a simple gold tie with matching gold cufflinks and her breath catches in her throat. She has to turn away, turning to his deep blue eyes instead.

Perfect blue eyes that will soon belong to someone, she thinks to herself, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in as the smile melts off her lips.

"What do you want?" she asks softly, without bitterness; wishing he will not make this even harder for her.

"I…" he stammers, running his hand through his grey-flecked hair. "Sara, I just want to-"

"Grissom," she says, desperation quietly creeping into her voice now. "Please, don't do this. I don't want to talk about all the things we've gone through. It's history; water under the bridge." Her voice softens and she looks down, speaking to his shiny leather shoes. "I've played my cards, as did you."

She looks up and into his eyes now, defiant brown meeting murky blue. "They say no one wins in Vegas, and they're right."

They are both silent; he knows she is right and it hurts, and she knows it hurts because she's right.

"I wish you all the best, Grissom," she says, giving him a heartbreaking smile filled with such sincere happiness he cannot breathe. "Good luck."

He watches her turn and walk away carefully on her heels, in her simple black dress.

No one ever wins.

--

She almost wants to laugh when he kisses her. It's funny that the day Gil Grissom kisses her is the day he is to be married.

It's funny, but not _ha-ha_ funny.

He moans her name against her lips and she feels herself tear up. It is wrong but it feels right, kissing the groom in an empty ballroom.

He pulls away abruptly, the confusion showing in his eyes. "Sara, I shouldn't be doing this to you, I'm sorry -"

She knows what he is doing is right, both for him and for her, but she doesn't want to see it that way.

Not right now.

"Are you really sorry, Grissom?"

He licks his lips uncertainly, and she takes the opportunity to blink away the tears.

"No," he whispers, shaking his head.

She smiles, because it's what she wants to hear, but it doesn't make their situation any less complicated.

So, against the better judgment of her heart, she drops her smile, shakes her head and plays by the unspoken rules. "Too late," she says softly, stepping back from him.

He holds her gaze, and she can feel herself tear up once more – for everything that should, would, and could have been.

"I'm going to marry her, but…" He closes his eyes briefly, but continues to speak. "I think I love you."

It is the frustratingly, heartbreakingly, painfully earnest way he says it that makes her cry. After all these years, he has finally said what she has only dreamed about.

She almost wants to laugh when he brushes away her tears with his thumb, so gently.

It's funny, in a sad, ironic way that the day Gil Grissom admits he's in love with her is the day he's to marry someone else.

--

She touches a finger to the green velvet table and the dealer deals her another card, face down.

There are no clocks around, and she is glad because she knows that by this time, he will be married. She had left the hotel the moment he said those three little words, and he didn't stop her.

She lifts the card and shakes her head. The dealer nods and she places her cards face up, another chip down.

Another game lost.

She hears someone sitting down next to her and she doesn't even have to look up to tell who it is. She can smell his cologne and recognise his voice, and she looks everywhere but his left hand.

"Sara, I meant every word."

She speaks to the velvet table. "I know, but you do realise you have really bad timing, right?"

The sound of cards rustling on the table makes her glance up and she's surprised – he does not wear a band around either fourth finger. He slides a card under his bet, the handheld symbol of standing with the cards he has.

"I've postponed the wedding," he says quietly.

She looks down at her cards. _12_. Scraping the cards against the table once more, she peeks under the card dealt by the bottle blonde dealer. She knows she heard 'postponed' and not 'cancelled', and she doesn't know whether to be angry or relieved.

"It doesn't change anything."

He shows his cards. _20_.

"I just need time to think."

She hits the blackjack with her _21_.

"Don't hurt her."

"I…I don't want to hurt you, either."

The dealer hands them each one identical red chip, their winnings, and Sara stares at hers.

Looking from the bright red chip and then at his face, she comprehends that one can win _and_ lose at the same time.

There's no black and white in their line of work, no black and white in their personal lives. No black and white in love.

Only grey, grey and more grey amidst the bright neon lights.


	2. Epilogue

She has lived in Vegas for nearly seven years, and she can honestly say she is one of the millions living in the desert city that gambles.

Poker has never interested her, but she does, in fact, enjoy blackjack. She doesn't see anything exciting about betting on a moving ball like in roulette, and the noises from the slot machines still give her headaches.

But she decides that gambling is better than drinking, because it doesn't give her a hangover, even though it burns a hole in her pocket. Not enough to worry her; it is disposable income.

Blackjack, the lesser of two evils.

In Las Vegas, Sara Sidle doesn't only gamble for money.

She gambles on love.

And today is the day she has to realise, like all the other people placing bets and gambling in flashy casinos, there are winners and losers. It is the same with poker, with roulette, and definitely with love.

The winner takes it all in virginal white, while the loser stands small.

Sara Sidle slips into a pure white gown and pins up her hair, feeling every bit the winner as she walks down the aisle towards Grissom with a knowing smile on her lips.

--

END.


End file.
